


Hard Landings

by StarsCrackedOpen (Misthia)



Series: Things Carried, Unseen [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Best Friends, Crash Landing, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Missions Gone Wrong, Pre-Relationship, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Sharing Body Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misthia/pseuds/StarsCrackedOpen
Summary: “Whatwouldyou do without me, master?” She said lightly, in their usual teasing way, as she finished and popped off the gloves.Anakin huffed through his nose, eyes still closed. “I dunno, Snips.”Or: In which another happy landing doesn’t go as smoothly as usual, Anakin is injured, and Ahsoka has to take the lead.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano
Series: Things Carried, Unseen [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839160
Comments: 5
Kudos: 189





	Hard Landings

**Author's Note:**

> What a week. This one is longer than originally intended, and borne of a line back in “Inflamed.” It takes place earlier though, probably late season 3. As ever, can be read as deep platonic or pre-relationship, as you wish.
> 
> I’ve got a chunk of that AU that’s been written, mostly the last act. It’s getting to that point and doing it well that will take more work.

* * *

Their escape pod was hurtling through the atmosphere of some godforsaken Outer Rim planet, and Ahsoka had only one question.

“Why! Are we _ALWAYS! CRASHING?!_ ”

“Not now, Snips!” Anakin was fighting the controls, which weren’t responding as they careened into lower atmo and finally to the ground.

The escape pod skidded and bounced, consoles sparking and the unsecured items in the cabin flying, along with a compartment panel that narrowly missed Ahsoka’s head. After what felt like an eternity, they ground to a shuddering stop. Ahsoka felt dizzy and her stomach hadn’t settled yet, but she could tell they were at least on terra firma.

She exhaled. “...Master?”

“Told you we’d make it,” he said, unstrapping his oxygen mask and harness. “You all right?”

She was sore and bruised, but her limbs all moved. She pulled off her mask, rubbing her neck. “I think so. What about you?”

“Mostly in one piece.” Anakin tried to get the consoles working, the comms — all of it was dead, destroyed in the landing. Two readouts were broken, bits of their screens crackling underfoot.

He swore under his breath and started looking for the homing beacon — he finally found it laying under the instrument panel. He engaged it, and...

Nothing. No lights. He sat down on the deck, analyzing this newest problem.

“Hand me the toolkit, I need to get this working if we want to get out of here.”

Ahsoka popped the compartment. She retrieved the small box, handing it over. Anakin turned to reach for it, and suddenly hissed, flinching. She looked at him more carefully, and saw the wet dark shine of blood on his robes.

“Your side — you’re injured!”

He pressed a hand to the spot and shook his head, then grabbed the toolbox from her. “It’s just a flesh wound, I’m fine. I need to get this working.”

“You need it cleaned—” she reached for the medkit.

“I said I’m _fine_.” He pulled out the vibrotools and got to work opening up the beacon.

“At least let me check the bleeding—”

“ _Ahsoka_.”

She sighed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He shot a look at her, she rolled her eyes, and he got back to tinkering with the homing beacon. After a couple more minutes, he groaned in frustration. “This thing is fried — I might be able to get it working again, but it’ll take time. Build a fire, see what we have for supplies. It could be a few days before anyone can reach us.”

Ahsoka nodded, shooting another surreptitious look at his side, but with his dark tabard she couldn’t see much. She popped the last compartment and found the pod’s survival kit with a tarp, a thin silver survival blanket, solar light, and fire starters. There were purifying tablets and some sterile water. She was surprised at the variety — well, _relative_ variety — of the rations. She guessed they had about three days of food before they’d have to start foraging and hunting.

 _I really hope we’re not marooned here that long..._ Ahsoka shook her head. That train of thought was better left alone.

They’d crash-landed in the mid-afternoon, and Ahsoka built a fire outside the escape pod and put the light out to charge. The escape pod, while cramped, was a sturdier shelter than the tarp. It would do. The planet was steppe, brushy and prickly, but green enough that she knew there’d be water nearby. She set out to do some scouting.

* * *

When she got back to the pod just after dusk, the beacon was blinking on the outside next to the hatch. She smiled at it as she grabbed the solar light and stepped inside. “I knew you get it—” she stopped.

Her master was still on the floor, propped against the wall of the pod, asleep. Ahsoka looked at him more closely and frowned. He was sweating, though the night was chilly, and he was wrapped in the silvery emergency blanket. She made her way over to him, lips pursed, and reached out to touch his forehead.

She pulled her hand back in alarm. He was burning up. She carefully tugged at one edge of the blanket,trying not to wake him as she aimed the light. As the blanket pulled back it revealed the gash in his side, which looked _angry_ , red and inflamed. She suppressed a groan. If he’d just _listened_ to her...

She shook her head and pulled out the medkit, setting it down next to him and rifling through the tubes and packets. Anakin stirred.

“’Soka?” He mumbled, clearly not fully awake. He tried to move but winced. She placed a hand on his shoulder to still him.

“Don’t try to move — your wound is infected. You have a fever.”

Now it was his turn to groan, and she wasn’t sure if it was out of pain or annoyance. Likely both. She returned to her rummaging, and after a few more minutes finally found the antibiotic she was looking for, pre-dosed in sealed syringes. _Perfect._

Her shadow fell over him as she leaned over with the syringe. Anakin’s eyes flew open again, and he caught her wrist. “Easy,” she said, sending reassurance through the bond and speaking as soothingly as she could manage with his mechnohand tightening painfully. “It’s just me, Master. This will help.” He blinked, recognized her and released her arm. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed again.

“Sorry.”

Remembering it had to go into muscle, she looked him over appraisingly. Seeing no other alternative given his lethargy, she removed his right spaulder and reached for the trauma shears to cut into his sleeve.

“Really?” He managed to mumble, opening one eye to glare as best he could. She put on as cheeky a smile as she could manage.

“It has to go directly into the muscle, so it’s that — or the alternative.” She looked pointedly down at his backside. He shut his eye again.

“Fine.”

She cut into the fabric, then cleaned the skin and uncapped the syringe. She looked at his face, took a breath, and stuck it into his shoulder as she’d seen Kix do. He grimaced, but otherwise didn’t respond, and she pushed the plunger, then pulled out the needle and set it aside. “Think you can manage some water?”

At his short nod, she raised a canteen to his mouth, and he scoffed, a little more alert now. “I can do it.” He took it from her, and she noted his hand wasn’t quite as steady as usual.

She shrugged, and started sweeping the bits of debris out of the immediate area, laying out the folded tarp. Anakin watched her, face flushed, eyes glassy, trying not to shiver. She dusted off her hands and turned back to him. “C’mon, master.”

“’M’fine here.”

She sighed, wondering if it was misplaced Jedi pride or just the usual stubborn Skywalker kind. “We still need to patch you up, and I can’t like this.” His face twisted in annoyance, but he let her help him transfer over to the space. After he’d laid down she pulled open his tabard and tunic just enough to expose the ugly gash.

She peeled back her bracers over her forearms, donned a pair of gloves, and started to work. Another injection, this time of a painkiller. Then she cleaned the wound as gently as she could. When she poured antiseptic over it he hissed, but otherwise didn’t make any protest as she probed the edges carefully, trying to remember everything her rudimentary field aid classes had taught her. It wasn’t shallow, and it was wide, and Ahsoka suspected adrenaline had kept him going as long as he had. It was no longer actively bleeding at least, so she bandaged it with bacta-gel, bacta pads, and a _lot_ of tape.

“What _would_ you do without me, master?” She said lightly, in their usual teasing way, as she finished and popped off the gloves.

Anakin huffed through his nose, eyes still closed. “I dunno, Snips.”

Then, quieter, so quietly she wasn’t sure he meant for her to hear, “I really don’t.”

There was a pang of sincerity behind his words that seeped into the space between them, and she smiled in spite of the situation. “Well, lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Ahsoka pulled the ripped tunic back over him and touched her hand to his forehead again. She smoothed the stray sticky waves back off the hot skin, fascinated as always by the alien feeling of _hair_. She laid her cool palm across his brow, and he shivered. Ahsoka pulled back, thinking she’d caused discomfort, but his head turned to follow her. A small tug on the bond, one she wasn’t even sure was conscious. She paused, and carefully replaced her palm, stroking the sweat from his forehead.

“You’ll be all right,” she murmured, sending the same sentiment through the Force. She’d noticed it before, but touch definitely made the bond more...focused.

After a few minutes, she switched hands to keep him as cool as possible. She frowned. There was a single-use ice pack in the medkit, but she wanted to save it in case his fever spiked. After a moment of thought, Ahsoka pulled the shears out again and used them to cut a strip from her leggings, which she soaked with water and laid across his forehead. Anakin didn’t stir.

She sat down next to him, leaning against the bulkhead, suddenly aware again that her body was aching. She slowly found herself nodding, and finally dozed off.

* * *

Early the next day, Ahsoka jolted awake. Her body was even sorer than the day before, and she took a moment to get her bearings. Fully waking up, she peered outside to make sure the beacon was still emitting, and then scrambled to check on Anakin. She removed the cloth and felt his forehead again. He was mercifully cooler, though still too warm. As she did, his eyes blinked open slowly.

“...Snips?”

She smiled. “Hey, Skyguy.” He seemed to be piecing things together, brow furrowing.

“How’s the beacon?” His voice was a little raspy. She brought the canteen to him and helped him sit so he could drink more easily. He flinched and grunted as he bent up, pain clearly worse today, and Ahsoka started rummaging through the medkit again.

“Still blinking.” She tore open a packet of painkiller and handed the pill to him. He swallowed it, and then grimaced at the ration biscuit she held out to him next. “You’ll need it with that pill. Unless you want to risk throwing up.”

He glowered at her, just a little. “When did _you_ turn into a field medic?”

“ _I_ listen to Kix.” He raised a doubtful eyebrow. She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

He took another sip of water. “The fleet shouldn’t be more than two days out now. Then we can get off this rock.”

She nodded. “I hope so. Lay back, I need to check your side.”

It was a sign that he was still in rough shape that he didn’t protest. His abdomen flexed involuntarily as she carefully peeled the tape back and looked the wound over with a critical, if inexperienced, eye. The bacta seemed to be doing its job, and she could see it was healing, if still somewhat inflamed. She re-secured the bandage and patted his shoulder. “Another day or two, you might not even need a night in the tank.”

“Lucky me.”

Ahsoka smiled, refastened her bracers around her hands and knelt back. “The pill should help you sleep too. You need rest.” She stood. “I’m going to get water. Don’t go anywhere.”

“No worries there,” he said dryly, and shut his eyes.

When she got back some time later, he was sleeping, but the fever finally seemed to have broken. Relieved, she set the water to boil on the fire, watching storm clouds roll in. She flipped between ration packets, trying to guess what would be most appetizing to her master. _None of them_ , she thought wryly, but with the fever gone, he needed to get something in him, especially if he was going to stomach any more meds.

Ahsoka chose one and tore it open, squinting at the directions and mixing it with hot water. She sniffed it dubiously, then tasted it and shrugged.

It wasn’t... _awful_.

She took a protein bar for herself and walked back into the pod as the wind started to pick up. Anakin didn’t wake to her voice, and she didn’t want to shake his shoulder and cause pain or startle. She knelt and reached gently for his head, stroking his hair. “Master?” She pressed a featherlight touch through the bond and a few seconds later his eyes opened. She smiled brightly at him and held up the ration pouch.

“Hungry?”

“Not really.” But he sat up gingerly, and took a few slow bites. Ahsoka counted the hours that had passed and found another pain pill, and he took it with a bite of the ration, wincing. She watched him with concern.

“Breakthrough pain?”

“No, this is just _terrible_.”

She swallowed a giggle. Outside, the storm started in earnest and the temperature, already cool, dropped. Anakin set the pouch aside, lowering himself back down, the painkiller clearly already working. Ahsoka pulled the blanket over him.

“Thanks, Snips,” he murmured. She smiled, giving his hand a quick squeeze, then sat down by him again, drawing her knees up to her chest. Still exhausted and sore from the crash, she fell asleep to the rain beating down on the pod.

She woke up some time later, freezing. The rain had stopped but the temperature had dipped again. Ahsoka rubbed her bare shoulders, teeth chattering. She quietly cast about for anything to wrap herself in, and realized there was only the single blanket Anakin was currently under.

_All those fancy ration packs, and only one blanket. Of course._

In the end, her desire to avoid losing feeling in her fingers won out over her feelings of awkwardness. So she set her jaw and slid in under the flimsy survival blanket next to him, taking care to do so on his uninjured side.

He stirred a little, and she froze. It felt intrusive, with him in this state, in spite of all the times they’d shared a tent or cabin — but she didn’t want to wake him, injured as he was, just to ask to share a blanket.

 _Stop being childish,_ she told herself. She edged in just enough to mostly cover herself, leaving as much distance as possible.

“’M’not gonna bite you,” came his voice suddenly, low and husky with sleep. She moved closer, her shoulder brushing his sleeve. She could feel the heat radiating from him now, and she shivered a little as she warmed up. He mumbled something incoherent and was out again.

Soon drifting, Ahsoka relaxed into his presence both physically and in the Force. It was warm and familiar, and she felt that warmth seep into her and lull her to sleep.

* * *

She awoke to the sound of engines. Ahsoka slid carefully out from under the blanket and peered over the edge of the metal sill.

It was a Republic transport landing. Her heart soared. A familiar trooper was the first to step off, and Ahsoka’s face split into a wide grin. “Master, Rex is here!” Her elation reverberated through their bond, and Anakin woke, holding his side and pushing off the blanket.

“Help me up.”

“Master—”

His jaw was set. “If I can stand, then I’m meeting them on my feet.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and helped him up, ducking under his arm to support his weight. After a moment he readjusted, his arm sliding down her shoulders, and he carefully stepped forward on his own. They crossed the threshold, and Rex and Kix came running to them.

Anakin smiled wryly. “About time you got here, Rex.”

“We came as fast as we could, General. The seppies had us blocked but we routed them.”

Kix spoke up. “Sir, you’re injured—”

“I can make it to the medbay.” He gingerly made his way up the ramp, Ahsoka staying close in case his footing became shaky — she could feel he was still weaker than he let on.

When they lifted off, she was glad to watch the planet shrink away beneath them.

* * *

In the medbay, Kix laid her master out and got to work. Ahsoka carefully recited what she’d given Anakin, when, and why, as the medic took vitals and checked the wound. He nodded and looked up, clearly a bit impressed.

“You didn’t do a half-bad job — sir.”

Ahsoka raised a brow at Anakin, as if to say, _See?_

He gave only his usual smirk, but through their Force-bond came a warm pulse that was unmistakably _fondness_. Her own brushed against it in response.

_Thanks, Snips._

**_Fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! As ever, please let me know what you think, good, bad, or otherwise — I don’t always have a chance to respond to all the lovely comments, but they all are greatly, genuinely appreciated.


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